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DRACO MALFOY AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE
By Lady Lestrange
Chapter 11
The Prefects' Bathroom
By the time Draco headed to the Prefects' Bathroom it was late. He only had an hour before curfew, but that should be enough time. When he reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered, a lost looking wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands, he leaned close to the door, and muttered the password Pansy had given him: "Pine fresh."
The door creaked open, and Draco wondered again how Pansy had gotten the password. She was certainly more enterprising than he had thought possible.
The bathroom itself was beautiful, but no more elaborate than his own private bath at home. There was a chandelier, with dozens of white tapers that lit the room with a soft romantic and relaxing light. The whole of the bathroom was white marble and the tub—well more like a swimming pool—was surrounded by about a hundred golden taps. Draco turned on several taps of plain water and two of soap.
He wished he could practice apparating from one side of the pool to the other while the tub filled. Instead he experimented with different warming charms. He had a feeling that he was not alone. He looked carefully all around the bath, and then his eyes fell on the pretty blonde mermaid picture. She was winking and smiling at him. Maybe it was her perusal he felt. The tub was filled pretty quickly. Obviously the taps were magic. Then he disrobed, climbed onto the diving board, and plunged into the water. After swimming several laps, he collected the egg and put it under the water with him.
It only took two listenings, before Draco had the song memorized.
"Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching, ponder this:
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour—the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone. It won't come back."
Draco climbed out of the water, dried and got dressed. What on earth could they take from him that he would miss? He'd just buy another one. Well, that wasn't the idea of the Tournament, but still—what could they take? He wondered. He couldn't think of a single thing that he would really miss.
As he lay in bed that night, he continued to ponder what they might take that he would miss. At last he fell asleep.
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